


Kingsman Gymnastics

by withinmelove



Category: Kingsman (Movies), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Gymnast Eggsy Unwin, Gymnastics, Harry Flirts, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/pseuds/withinmelove
Summary: Eggsy is an Olympic gymnast training under the elite coach Harry Hart.





	Kingsman Gymnastics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Mephistopheles (Neko_wa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_wa/gifts).



> Lady Mephistopheles I hope you enjoy your fic!

The second best day of Eggsy’s life is becoming a part of the team headed to the Olympics. The first is meeting Harry and his teammates at Kingsman Gymnastics.

His mum drops him off at the Kingsman gymnasium tears spilling over as he hugs her goodbye.

“You be good, Eggsy. I don’t want any trouble, not when you’ve made it this far.” She gently scolds as she fusses with his hair. He grins ducking down to scoop up Daisy who is at the tender age of six and devastated with her brother’s farewell. Since she’s understood Eggsy’s empty bedroom and the filled up van meant his leaving Daisy’s been begging him to stay at home.

“Of course not, mum. I’m not _that_ stupid.”

The look she gives him reflects her skepticism. Okay maybe he deserves that look. He bounces Daisy higher up on his hip as she clings to his shoulders.

“Don’t go.” Daisy sniffles laying her fair head down on his shoulder. Eggsy’s heart twists at her quavering voice.

“Oh, Daisy girl I’m not going to be gone forever. You can always come up to see me and I’ll come back on the weekends to see you. We’ll still go to story time at the library, okay? This time we’ll get ice cream when I’m back, yeah?”

She shakes her head little fingers clenching into his jacket.

“No! I want you to stay now!”

Mum’s mouth trembles as she wipes at her eyes with a now soaked tissue smeared with mascara. Eggsy’s throat tightens as he too starts to tear up. He hugs Daisy one last time before he gently pries her small fingers from him. At this rate they won’t leave until night time. Finally, Mum takes her (Daisy’s gone limp betrayal in her eyes) before kissing him goodbye. He wipes his eyes as he waves goodbye to them until they’ve driven out of sight.

It takes a minute to collect himself a bit, but once he does he turns towards the gymnasium to see Roxy standing on the steps leading to the large glass double doors. A small wave from her that he returns in kind. A signal of: _all safe to approach_. At once she’s coming down the steps to sling one of his duffel bags over her small shoulder. She gives him a small smile offering him her hand.

“Come on, Eggsy. You won’t have time to be sad once you’ve seen inside.”

They’ve just starting to marvel over the enormity of both the gymnasium and exercise room when they are joined by two Kingsman coaches (made obvious by the golden _K_ sewn on the chest of their shirts).

“Hello, you must be Gary Unwin and Roxy Morton?” The older gentleman asks somehow sophisticated even in black sweatpants and dark red Kingsman shirt. They both nod politely. This doesn’t seem like the kind of man to joke around with. However, the sternness smoothes into a polite smile at their answers.

“Call me Eggsy.” Eggsy can’t help but chime in. He dislikes his birth name. Might as well change it while he’s got the chance. The coach nods.

“Welcome to Kingsman you two. I’m Harry Hart for the men’s team.”

“And I’m Olive for the women’s team.” Olive the second coach adds. She’s at least thirty years his junior and a complete contrast. In place of his brand name clothes she’s dressed in unremarkable black sweatpants, black tank top and barefoot. She wiggles her toes when he and Roxy both glance down. “Easier to work in the gym without them.” Two friendship bracelets encircle her small ankles.

“Yes, but meeting our new athletes?” Harry sounds pained. Eggsy smiles when Olive playfully elbows her co-worker.

“I may as well be comfortable at a job that lets me go barefoot. Anyways,” She interrupts herself turning her gaze towards them. “Are you two friends or more just know each other from the same gym? I saw on your paperwork that you both attended the same place.”

“Yes, we started classes together when we were eight.” Roxy answers.

“It took me until we were nine for her to like me.” He adds on with a laugh. Roxy doesn’t have time to defend herself before the whoosh of the front doors opening has them all looking over to see the new arrivals. A man who is enormous in stature with blond hair strides towards them two large duffel bags on either shoulder, a backpack on his back, and two rather enormous suitcases in each hand. Rather, like a brooding, gorgeous pack mule. A grumpy looking mule is more apt. Behind him is a sleek man in a pressed suit chiding him.

“Peril, you know I was teasing you. You’re going to give them a bad impression with that look on your face.”

There’s no time to greet them as two women enter right behind. The sharp _tink - tink -tink_ of metal on marble announces them. They’re a matched pair just as this “Peril” and well-dressed man are opposites. Both women have thick brown hair and slender runner’s bodies. Their eyes take everyone in measuring up the competition.

Olive and Harry recover themselves the quickest going through the introductions and welcoming them to Kingsman. Roxy gives her hello and name, Eggsy repeating after her. Come to find out Illya Kuryakin is the actual name of Peril. The name of his coach is Napoleon Solo. The two matched women are Gaby Teller and her coach Gazelle Kadis. Eggsy isn’t ashamed to note the decidedly odd design of Gazelle’s prosthetics.

“Well since everyone has got their stuff with them we’ll bring everyone to your homes.” Olive announces with a clap of her hands.

The home for the athletes is only ten minutes away from the gymnasium that is set on enormous acreage. It turns out the wide pale sidewalks that wend all over the place behind the building lead to a variety of homes for the long-term athletes and trainers.

“How many houses do you have?” Eggsy asks in slack jawed amazement at the three-story brick house coming upon them.

“Fifty. Forty are for our athletes local and foreign that are training for their various events and the Olympics. Ten are kept aside for any person with the purse who would like a vacation or a chance for a serious exercise routine.” Harry answers nonchalantly. Eggsy is shotgun in the large golf cart they're taking to their new home. The entire thing is pretty much a bench seat. Two bench seats make up the back of the cart. Roxy, Gaby and Gazelle sit on the left-hand bench while Illya and Napoleon are making do with the right side. Illya’s size doesn't leave much room for his coach, however, Napoleon (what a name) doesn’t seem to mind chattering away to his stoic faced athlete. Olive is following behind in a small pick-up truck their luggage stowed in the bed of it.

The interior of the gorgeous brick house is spacious and full of sunshine from the large windows throughout. Distressed wood flooring and pale walls in every part of the house but the bathrooms gives an impression of coziness.

“This will be where the athletes will be staying. There are four bedrooms. Coaches will be five minutes away in a larger home including Olive and myself.”

By the time they all have roamed throughout the house claiming their bedrooms, admiring the expense and tasteful decorations their luggage has been brought in for them. Eggsy catches a fond smile on Harry’s face as he listens and watches them admiring everything.

“Come on show us where you fancy coaches will be living! We have all day to stare at our stuff.”

So, at Eggsy’s insistence and the overall giddy mood of everyone else instead of the golf cart all of them pile into the bed of the pick-up truck. Olive goofs with them by stepping on the gas for a few seconds causing them to slide about laughing and hollering clinging to the sides before she hits the brake sending the group fetching up against the back window. Eggsy whoops standing up to plant his hands on the roof of the truck.

“Go, go, go!” He hollers drumming his knuckles on the roof. The engine rumbles as she presses on the gas. At once there are three pairs of hands on his lower back to keep him from being flung backwards. A cheer raises out of his throat. No doubt he looks like a complete idiot but he can’t bring himself to care. Anything to drown out Daisy’s crying in his mind.

\--

Just as Eggsy guessed the coaches' house is just as beautiful and lavish. All of them end spending three hours roaming around coaches and athletes alike. However, quickly Eggsy’s head begins to feel like it’s clogged up with the new sights and people. Too much socializing but nothing to do about it now but wait to be brought back to their house. So, after the tour of the coaches’ home and being returned to theirs Eggsy curls up in the larger recliner in his bedroom next to the window (the reason he picked this bedroom) ready to be alone for awhile. He pulls the duvet off the bed to curl up in before he grabs his backpack which holds his new journal, a nice hardcover. The hours slip by as he records the last week of packing all the way up to this evening as they were shown their new accommodations. It’s not until the sunlight has slipped all the way off the pages that he flicks on the standing lamp next to him.

What with everyone settling in Eggsy doesn’t expect any late night visitors. So, it’s to his great surprise when he hears a knock on his door at midnight.

“Yeah, come in.” He calls out wondering if something’s happened or maybe if Roxy wants to chat. She and Coach Olive seemed to hit it off great both chattering away excitedly in Olive’s room during the tour of the coaches’ home. Maybe she wants to discuss how cool she is. Instead, it’s Ilya’s large frame that fills his doorway.

“Hey Illya, what’s up?”

He doesn’t beat around the bush of why he’s here.

“You’ve been upset all day acting like it was nothing. Why?”

Eggsy blinks. What eagle eyes of perception does he possess? Here is the part where he’s defensive about being asked about his emotions, but why bother? Illya’s just being nice, a concerned teammate. He shrugs as he beckons Illya inside who settles on the bed posture perfect as he sits up straight.

“Didn’t want to be a downer y’know. Greatest day of our lives to be on the Olympic team and I can’t stop thinking about Daisy, my little sister, crying because her brother is leaving her behind.”

Eggsy swallows having to stare hard at the ceiling after that confession. Well Illya wanted to know what’s wrong so here it is soppy emotions and all.

“It is okay to miss Daisy. I miss my mom. She’s home in Russia unable to get a visa to come over.”

A look over and Illya is totally serious. No soft sympathetic smiles there.

“That’s shit she can’t be here. I’m sorry, Illya. And here I’m feeling sad because I can’t see Daisy every day.”

“No. It is not who has worse. We both miss our special person. Chess is a good way to focus away from sadness. I could teach you.”

This pulls a smile from Eggsy’s lips. Underneath that grumpy exterior is a kind man.

“Sure, that’d be awesome. Roxy can probably take you on. She’s brilliant at stuff like that.”

Illya nods before he stands and moves to tower over him in the recliner offering his hand. Unsure Eggsy grasps his hand receiving a gentle squeeze. A flush runs through him.

“I hope we are friends by the end. You’ll be okay, Eggsy.”

He can’t answer just swallows against his tight throat nodding. With that Illya takes his leave lightly closing the door behind himself. Eggsy gets ready for bed cradling close the kind concern of his new tentative friend. It helps him fall asleep.

However, he wakes up at five am, chest tight struggling to breathe. For half an hour Eggsy does breathing exercises trying so hard to go back to sleep. Finally, he kicks off his blankets sitting up scrubbing his fingers through his hair. It’s a snap decision to go to the gymnasium.

There’s nothing for it he feels too restless and while his companions have been helpful in their ways it’s not enough. A displaced melancholy for his close friends Ryan and Jamal. Especially Daisy. God how he misses her. Regrets leaving her crying.

The morning air’s still chilly as it skates across his skin when he leaves the house. He’s thrown on his close-fitting shorts and a tank top. The entrance he goes through is one of the many back doors he scouted during an earlier tour of the building he took when Kingsman first extended an invitation to live and train at their facility.

A surprise to see lights on in the gymnasium. Not all of them; just half. The bigger surprise is Harry on a balance beam clearly practicing a routine. _His routine_.

The thud of the heavy door causes Harry to turn towards him startled.

“Eggsy, you know practice isn’t until nine. Is something wrong?”

The concern is nice but there’s nothing that he can do. Eggsy shakes his head.

“No, I just couldn’t sleep is all.”

Harry’s concern softens with a small smile.

“Of course. Difficult to sleep the first couple of nights here. Is there anything you need or want that would help?”

 _Daisy_ , but that’s not going to be possible until he gets a break to go home.

“No thank you. I was just coming in to work out.”

Harry nods.

“Shall I put you through your paces early? Take your mind off your worries.” Eggsy smiles a bit.

“You won’t go easy on me later in practice, will you?”

Harry puts a hand to chest as if he’s been mortally offended. Oh yes there’s good reason why Eggsy feels at ease around him.

“Just for that comment I’m going to have to work you that much harder.”

The laugh that bubbles up is genuine.

“Don’t pretend to be miffed. You’re gonna enjoy punishing me for mouthing off to you.”

A look he doesn’t know how to decipher flashes in Harry’s eyes.

“Of course, I will.”

\--

The official start to the day in the gymnasium works its magic on Eggsy. Chalk in the air with a hint of feet (not acrid thankfully as everyone including trainers and coaches are barefoot) soothes the nerves squirming in his chest. He feels at home.

“Good morning, Eggsy. I’m glad to see you’re awake on time. Sometimes our students have trouble waking up so early for training.” Harry says as he meets him at the gymnasium doors. Smug bastard thought he had come even close to wearing him out with their session. Eggsy grins right back refusing to admit his eyelids are heavy weights wanting to close and his muscles begging to relax.

“Mornin’ Harry. Nah, I feel completely ready to start!”

Take that.

\--

The second time Eggsy shows up at 5:30 am two days later he worries that he’s intruding too much on Harry’s time. This early morning is for Harry’s workout not extra for training. However, he’s quickly disabused of that idea when Harry waves him over. This time his coach is working on the uneven bars.

“Good morning, Eggsy! I was hoping I didn’t scare you off after last time.”

A smile spreads across his lips as his shoulders loosen.

“I’ve had worse than that trust me.”

Harry gives him a steady look completely unruffled by his banter.

“You do enjoy being punished don’t you, Eggsy?”

Tingles spark up his spine at that. Damn even if that wasn’t purposeful Harry has just now given him a fairly good idea of what dirty talk with him would be like. For a moment he’s too caught up in that fantasy to answer back. Harry, on the other hand, doesn’t have a problem with continuing what he was saying.

“Alright then I want you to do ten laps around, thirty push-ups, twenty-five curl ups, and fifteen planks for thirty second each.”

 _Finally_ Eggsy manages to get his brain back online with the conversation and not the one he’s imaging in his head in a very different setting.

“Not even a warm up for me, Harry.”

“Yes, I know that darling boy, but I don’t need you exhausted before we even begin. Your routine and conditioning will ensure that.”

The endearment has his stomach fluttering. He tries to push the airy light feeling away. Nothing meant by that. Silly to think his coach no matter how sharply dressed and joking would be flirting by calling him pet names. Clearly, he’s more than a little desperate to think that.

\--

As the weeks go on and they become familiar with one another one thing that Eggsy comes to learn about Illya is his eye for fashion. It’s thanks to Napoleon for revealing this interesting tidbit. He seems to spend most of his time at their place hanging out with Illya with no hobbies of his own. Well besides him rambling on and Illya only opening his mouth to criticize Napoleon’s clothing choices. Eggsy often agrees with Illya. Some outfits would be better not worn at all.

He’s coming in from getting the mail when he walks into a fashion confrontation between Illya and for once not Napoleon but _Gaby_.

“Who are you to say what looks good on me? This is perfectly fine.”

Eggsy looks up from flipping through the mail to find Illya towering over Gaby who has a defiant jut to her chin. She’s serious much like Illya however much more approachable. Yet he’s not gotten a chance to hang out with her. Often, she’s off somewhere tinkering with the Kingsman’s various cars and trucks or otherwise off exploring town.

Currently she’s wearing an orange romper with small white polka dots all over it. Really, he can’t see what’s wrong with that outfit. It’s very cute and suited to Gaby.

“It is ugly. Not a good color.”

Uh-oh wrong thing to say there. Gaby puts her hands on her hips akimbo. He’d leave but at this point he might get caught in the middle of this should he move.

“Okay, what do _you_ think looks good?”

Clearly this is just what Illya’s been waiting for. At once he marches up the stairs him and Gaby following. Be a shame to miss the conclusion of this argument after all. Illya heads right into Gaby’s room straight to her closet. Wow serious business to breach boundaries but then the exasperated smile on her face says she doesn’t mind this. Eggsy for his part stays by the door out of range of any fashion criticisms.

In her closet Illya finds light grey capris jeans, a dark green shirt and a long black cardigan. Gaby crosses her arms as she eyes his choices.

“I don’t want to wear green.”

A glower as he turns back riffling through the hangers pulling out possibilities before he puts them back muttering what might be Russian swear words under his breath. Finally, he comes up with a yellow flowered tank top and a grey cardigan.

“Your flats are fine.”

Eggsy looks down to see she’s wearing white flats. He barely catches the smile she’s trying to suppress.

“I’m not throwing away my romper.”

Illya may have won the battle but certainly he’s not won the war on Gaby’s fashion sense. If the determined glint in is anything to go by neither one is going to give up until their dying breath. This house just got a lot more exciting.

\--

Two months into training and they’ve settled into a comfortable pattern. Although Eggsy misses Daisy and texts Mum constantly to ask about her the new habits of his life sooth the sharpest edge of his pain for leaving. Harry and him without needing to say a word meet up twice a day now. Once in the early morning for an hour’s practice alone and again for regular practice amongst everyone else.

It’s the quiet time together that helps Eggsy the most when homesickness hits him the hardest. Not for the abuse Dean used to rain down on him, but for his daily life with Daisy, Jamal and Ryan. For the days of him teaching the little kids down at the gymnastics center all the way up to the adults in the evening who came in tired from a long day at work but eager to get started on new routines to learn. He doesn’t need to pour out his whole sob story or impress Harry besides doing an excellent job.

One morning after practice Eggsy is sat on the giant squashy foam pad below the climbing rope while Harry massages a crick out of his neck. In the mood to complain about something he decides it’s going to be about Gazelle. Not the for the fact he dislikes her or anything unpleasant like that. What bugs him is he can’t get a read on her besides her sarcasm that laces everything. She’s standoffish both with the athletes and, come to find out, the coaches as well.

“She doesn’t hardly ever talk around any of us.” Eggsy complains groaning as Harry firmly works his fingers into the muscles of his neck.

“Miss Kardis is a private person is all. Much like Mr. Kuryakin I dare say.”

“Pffft Illya talks plenty it’s just when we’re at home. Should hear him and Gaby fight over fashion.”

Harry chuckles slowly and firmly pushing sideways along Eggsy’s shoulders with the heels of his hands.

“Well perhaps we’ve simply not found a subject interesting enough for her. What does Gaby her student have to say on the matter? I can’t imagine there isn’t any gossip happening about us.”

“Nothing. Always tells us when we ask its Gazelle business.” Eggsy mumbles so relaxed by Harry now kneading his left hand he can hardly open his mouth to talk. He misses the smile on Harry’s lips.

“It’s never too late to seek out what interests Miss Kardis. However, don’t push her Eggsy. She doesn’t have to be your friend.”

He turns around enough to squint at Harry. What does he take him for? A six-year-old kid?

“I know that. ‘M just curious.”

\--

Now normally Eggsy _wouldn’t_ pester someone who made it clear they wished to be alone however he truly is curious about Gazelle. Even her own student isn’t all that informed about her or even what her hobbies are. It startles him that he still knows very little about Harry come to think of it. He’s going to need to fix that soon.

Mellowed out after the massage he quite luckily stumbles upon Gazelle reading in the study room two stacks of graphic novels strewn around her along with two notebooks.

“Whatcha’ workin’ on?” He asks leaning against the doorframe for support. Even in this drowsy state he’s aware he should respect her space by not coming in until invited. She flicks a look at him before her dark eyes are focused back on whatever she’s writing.

“Nothing you’d be interested in.” She shoots back.

“Really? You haven’t even told me about it. I’m interested in what it is now.”

“You are just playing with me.”

“A little but I am honestly curious. You keep to yourself so much I don’t know the first thing about you. Why is that?”

Gazelle frowns at him as she puts her notebook aside. Uh-oh did he overstep?

“What makes me so curious? Is it my legs? The fact that I don’t have actual feet? Is this your way of trying to get the story out of me by being friendly?”

“Wha-,” Eggsy is blindsided by her sparking upset and the topic change. “No! Not at all! You think I’m that big of a twat? Whatever happened with your legs is your business. Besides, you’re an elite coach clearly, you’re doing something great, feet or no.”

This last comment draws her up short leaving her blinking at him.

“I promise I’m not here about your legs. I just wanted to talk, but I’ll let you get back to your books.”

“I was writing an analysis piece on the characters in a comic book series.” Gazelle calls out to his back. Eggsy turns and comes back.

“Yeah? That sounds cool. Not boring at all. Would you tell me about the comics and what you’re analyzing? I can’t promise I’ll understand _everything_ but I’ll try.”

For the first time Gazelle smiles before beckoning him over.

“Well if you want to know you’re going to have to come closer.”

He sits where she directs him on the couch looking at the characters as she points them out in the comics. Explains their backgrounds and their place in the plot. A small victory at tapping the walls of her self-imposed isolation.

\--

Autumn is creeping into the days when Napoleon decides to host a bonfire at the home of the coaches. In no uncertain terms he ordered everyone to show up.

“It’s been three months since we started living together and I can say I don’t know the first thing about any of you! Besides Illya of course and that doesn’t count.”

The firelight playing over their faces softens features with shadows that flicker. Eggsy’s lounging in Harry’s lap seeing as his own chair decided to break on him as soon as he sat down. Before he could do more than get up and rub his butt from where the canvas chair had prodded him rather hard Harry gestures him over.

“Sit with me, Eggsy. No need to bother dragging out another chair.”

His heart feels like it’s in his mouth when he answers back. “I don’t want to break you too, Harry. Who will be my coach then? I don’t think Illya’s willing to share.”

The others chuckle at the joke quite missing the way Harry’s gaze strolls up his body as he quirks a brow. Eggsy is on fire and it’s got nothing to do with the flames behind him.

“If I can handle you in training I’m sure I can do so just fine with you in my lap.”

With that Eggsy gingerly sits down on Harry only to gasp when he manhandles him into a more comfortable position.

“There we go. Comfortable?”

Eggsy can only nod deciding in a second to go all in and wrap an arm around his shoulders. The others haven’t noticed as Roxy has begun divvying up s’mores supplies amongst everyone. Far more important is sugar than them getting all cuddly with each other. Quietly he takes the marshmallows, mini chocolate bars and graham crackers passed over to them both.

“So, Napoleon, why don’t you compete anymore?” Olive asks as she barely toasts her marshmallow over the fire. Gazelle meanwhile is practicing a quick burn technique. Napoleon shrugs with an easy smile.

“I did when I was younger, but I found training others to be more of a rewarding challenge.”

Illya cuts in. “You think singlets and leotards are ugly.”

“Well, yes there’s that. However, the more important reason is that I was bored by competing. I knew how great I was in the sport and while the medals and trophies attracted great attention,” Eggsy doesn’t even have to look at Harry’s face to know he’s astounded by how forthright he is. “It wasn’t enough for me to continue on. The fun came from molding and pushing others to be great athletes.”

“So, you enjoyed manipulating people with their diets and routines, yes?” Gazelle spoke up in her throaty accent. All eyes swiveled from her to Napoleon. He grins. The tension that bunched their shoulders releases. No offense taken.

“Of course, why else are we coaches? It’s the dearest wish of us all to shape our pupils into magnificent athletes.”

Funny how unabashed he is.

A couple hours later he and Harry make a kitchen run for more snacks. They really shouldn’t be breaking their diets already but tonight something about the spice of dying leaves in the air and burning logs crackling in the firepit has made everyone mellow. At least that what Eggsy tells himself as he watches Harry out of the corners of his eyes as he moves about the kitchen.

“Eggsy.” Uh-oh Harry’s looking right over at him.

“Yeah, Harry?” Okay just play it cool. Pretend the staring wasn’t a thing that he was doing.

“Do you have something to say to me? You’ve been watching me quite intently for the past few minutes.” Damn it well there goes that plan.

“Why did _you_ decide to be a coach?” The question is honest despite being hasty. He is curious now thinking about it. Harry’s enigmatic despite the possibly flirting that’s been going on since they first started training. Hearing about Napoleon has made him want to know more about his own coach.

A smile and god how that makes Eggsy’s heart stutter in his chest. Before he can press the question Gazelle strides into the room in search of a drink. Her eyes flicker between the two of them before she crosses towards the fridge. Harry takes that moment to retreat from the kitchen his arms full of more snacks for the others.

“Why do you not say something to him?” Gazelle asks a bottle of water in her hand. Those dark eyes know his crush and Eggsy can’t do anything more than shrug before he too scuttles from the kitchen. If only he could.

\--

Gazelle’s words continue to nag at him and so finally on a random day Eggsy decides to drop into the coach's’ home pleased to find that Harry is indeed there. Ever since Harry’s mysterious act at the bonfire he’s been dying to find out more about him. Absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with his crush on him. Nope none at all. It helps that he doesn’t need much of an excuse to go find his coach seeing as after the bonfire Harry’s been asking Eggsy to come around more.

“Where do you live when you’re not here?” Eggsy asks as he looks around the kitchen which is spotless as usual. “Don’t you miss your old place? And why do coaches stay on site when you’ve got your own place to live? I’d get tired of always being at work.”

Harry moves about the kitchen getting their lunch ready. Paninis he called the toasted sandwiches that he’s making. He wonders about Harry’s sudden need to have him be around more often. _Perhaps he too knew about his crush?_ The thought makes his skin prickle with nerves. Up above they could hear Gazelle moving about the _tic - tic - tic_ muffled by the wood flooring. Napoleon breezes past him as he and Illya head out to go jogging.

“Would you like to see my regular home?” Harry offers as if it’s no big deal.

“Think I’m going to turn down an offer like that? See the secret life of Harry Hart, coach extraordinaire or stay in the fancy hotel, hm?” Just as Eggsy hopes Harry smiles as he serves up their sandwiches.

“I highly doubt I’m exciting as all that but thank you for the interest. We’ll leave tonight after practice then. Time to check no one’s roughed up the place anyways.”

The rest of the day flies by for Eggsy as he imagines what Harry’s regular house might look like. Probably something with brickwork and in an older neighborhood. A quiet place in comparison to the constant hustle and bustle here. Not to mention having roommates this late in life. Probably nothing as opulent as the house they have. Tastefully expensive? Yes, without a doubt, but nothing that brags. Even in the short three months he’s known him Harry doesn’t come across as that sort of guy.

It helps that he also thinks about Harry wooing him in the kitchen over glasses of wine (he seems like the kind to woo with wine). Or kissing him in the study because a man like Harry would most certainly have one of those. If anything, it’s the thought of more flirting that makes Eggsy all giddy. He thinks up entire conversations of clever flirting now that they’ll be alone at Harry’s place with no teammates or coaches to walk in on them.

However, all thoughts of playful flirting are knocked from his mind when he sees all the cutting-edge tech in Harry’s home. For god’s sake the door unlocks with a pin from his phone.

“Wow Harry, I never realized you were so tech savvy.” Harry shoots him an unamused look over his shoulder before he opens the door.

“I’m older Eggsy, not completely unaware of technology. Besides,” He sniffs primly. Eggsy has never been more entertained in his life. “It was my friend Merlin who set up the household security. He loves testing out his company’s new items. My only request was he not mess with the toilet, my bed or the alarm clock.”

The laughter surprises Eggsy. But what else can he do? Here he’s imagined such a quaint old home and life for his mentor instead Harry’s got a crackpot friend who loves wiring his house with the newest, experimental electronics. His curiosity has grown threefold.

“Are all your friends like Merlin? How did you get to know him if he’s techy stuff and you’re an Olympic coach?” Eggsy asks as Harry hangs his keys on the holder beside the stairs. _Check one for him on being right that Harry’s super organized_ before he leads the way to the kitchen which is full of honey colored cabinets.

“I did hold more jobs than just this one, you know. Water, tea or martini?” Eggsy settles at the island counter startling upright when the top it flickers to the Google home screen.

“Martini, thanks. Yeah but how did you make friends with a guy who does this?!” He taps the search bar to find the past looked up items. Recipes for food and drinks, a few social media sites, and - Harry slides his martini to him. Hm. There’s no way he hasn’t watched porn on this. For that matter what else around here has screens in them? Harry settles into the chair next to him as the electric kettle warms. A smile is pulling at his lips.

“You’re going to hurt my feelings, Eggsy going on about Merlin so much. You haven’t even met the grumpy old man.”

He throws an arm around Harry giving him a squeeze. Heat races over his whole body from the casual touching when Harry gently extracts an arm so that he can wrap it around Eggsy’s shoulders.

“I’m just excited to realize how cool you really are Harry that’s all.” This earns him a laugh. Butterflies startle in his stomach at the sound.

“Well I hope I can live up to that standard of ‘cool’ you’ve set for me.”

The day passes by in a blink of an eye as Harry shows him around his house showing off all the amazing tech everywhere. By the evening time (it’s decided they’ll spend the night here and head back at their five thirty am time to the gymnasium). It’s eight thirty at night and they’ve settled in Harry’s basement stretched out on his sectional couch a movie softly on in the background.

Eggsy at one end has propped his feet into Harry’s lap. Meanwhile, Harry has his feet tucked into the couch cushions by Eggsy’s hip.

“What interested you in starting gymnastics?” Harry asks turning away from the romantic comedy they ended up picking out of lack of anything else. If he wanted to be cheeky he could play the mysterious card too and avoid telling him anything of why gymnastics was the route he took in life. However, Eggsy finds he doesn’t want to do that. He wants Harry to know him and his life.

“I started when I was five. My dad was still alive at that point. He wanted me to be athletic and figured gymnastics was a unique sport,” Eggsy shrugs with a small smile, “I guess he thought football and wrestling weren’t good enough for his kid. After he died mum would keep aside money for my lessons from her veteran’s benefits. It was rough without him and sometimes I had to miss a few months, but mum always made sure I got back to it.”

The words stream from his mouth and Eggsy finds himself unwilling to censor. It seems right and safe to tell Harry about his childhood, about how he was shaped into the person lounging on his couch.

“She met Dean when I was twelve and got pregnant with Daisy. Probably would have left him after he hit her the first time but that was after she found out about Daisy. Decided to marry him, give Daisy a proper family and all. I begged her not to but she wouldn’t listen said he didn’t mean anything by it. The first time he hit me was a week after the honeymoon and Mum just stood there. After that I didn’t think about anything else but getting out. Dedicated myself to ROTC and gymnastics.”

Eggsy takes a deep breath tipping his head back to address the ceiling. Harry’s foot nudges gently at his hip in a gesture of comfort. He appreciates that Harry doesn’t say he’s sorry, or that it must have been difficult, or he understands.

“On my eighteenth birthday she gave me the last check from dad’s military benefit. It would cover a handful of lessons. I took Daisy with me everywhere when she was born. Put her in the little chest carrier y’know the kind really active parents wear. Bring her around town anywhere that wasn’t at home. He never hit her but I wasn’t going to wait for that. You’ll think I didn’t love Mum anymore but by then she was so under his thumb she wouldn’t believe she was able to leave.” His voice cracks and he has to swallow hard but he wants to finish this. By this point Harry gently squeezes Eggsy’s feet. The warmth of his hands is nice.

“I went off that year to start training for the Royal Marines. Ended up coming home because I couldn’t live with myself letting Daisy grow up in a house like that. So, I went to work at the gymnasium I went to all my life. The manager gave me half off Daisy’s lessons because he knew how much it meant to me and because he knew Dad before he died. I taught every level all day from open to close since I wasn’t going on to higher education. Daisy had lessons four days a week. She _adored_ it. And now here I am again leaving her behind to that shithole. But this has been my _dream_. Prove that a kid from nothing can be something. And that’s all well and good but what am I going to do after this? Move back in with Mum, Dean and Daisy? Back to getting punched or threatened with a knife if I don’t listen to that prick throw insults around with his weight?”

“I would find you a position here if you’d like to continue to coach, Eggsy. After the Olympics of course.”

Eggsy gapes at him completely thrown by this generous offer out of nowhere.

“Seriously? But I’m not even close to your level of expertise. And what would I do with Daisy? She’d be coming to live with me and she can’t be home by herself.”

“You’d train the children and young adults at our day program. I’m sure I could find it within my power to secure a place for her. Without a doubt we could find an excellent day care for her when you’re at work and she’s not practicing.” He sits up fully pulling his feet from Harry’s grasp. This is not what he expected when he started telling Harry about himself.

“You’d really go to all that trouble for me? Just because I told you the sob story of my childhood? Because you pity me?” The thought of that hardens his awe at Harry’s supposed generosity.

Harry frowns sitting up as well. “Not at all, Eggsy that’s not what I meant to convey. You seem to really love coaching from what I just heard. Why shouldn’t I give a position to a gymnast who loves the sport and clearly has a passion for teaching others? A difficult childhood doesn’t earn you anything.”

Eggsy’s cheeks sting with the reprimand. “I’m sorry I didn’t been to be an arse. I... I just don’t want you to pity me for what happened. And...I’d love to be a coach here. After I’m done with the Olympics.”

A smile softens Harry’s features and again he squeezes Eggsy’s feet. This time a tingle runs up straight to Eggsy’s groin making him flush and lower his eyes.

“I don’t pity you at all, dear boy. I admire you. And I’m glad to hear. You’ll be an excellent coach, of that I’ll make sure.” 

\--

It’s a couple of weekends later after his big emotional reveal to Harry that Eggsy’s all settled cozy in a recliner in the basement playing Harvest Moon: Magical Melody when Napoleon makes an appearance. Gaby and Roxy both tease him about the cutesy chibi game but he loves it regardless.

Anyways it’s a good stress reliever and nothing even remotely to do with physical activity which is fine by him. It’s Saturday morning (damn circadian rhythm not letting him sleep in) and a complete free day from the gym. He plans to get in as much couch potato time as possible since junk food has been eliminated from his diet while training. Of course, Napoleon appears just as he’s found the perfect recliner crease and firmly tucked himself in with the king-size comforter he dragged downstairs.

“Eggsy, just the man I wanted to see!” Eggsy looks up at Napoleon’s hand squeezing his shoulder.

“Illya not talking to you?” He asks as he picks up two red herbs on the ground. If he can get one more he can make a stamina potion.

“Nothing unusual with that one.” Napoleon mutters before brightening. “No, I’m here to ask if you’d like to make an alcohol run with me. Shockingly there’s nothing in the way of any good liquors here.”

Now this is interesting enough to get him to pause the game.

“No shit we’re all training. Can’t have everyone be smashed every night.”

Napoleon rolls his eyes. “Of course, dear Eggsy, but after a long day of training it’s nice to kick back with some good scotch. Now are you going to accept my effort of trainer/athlete bonding or keep asking silly questions?”

At any other time, he’d question why the sudden effort to reach out but he has rather missed alcohol. Not just for the fact it _is_ a good way to relax but the reminder that now he’s in training means he has restrictions on what he can eat and drink. Harry’s not even brought up the idea of when Eggsy might be able to take a day or two for visiting family and friends. Going to the pub with Jamal and Ryan was one of the mainstays of their hanging out.

“Okay lemme save and I’ll be ready.”

The trip into town is surprisingly fun with Napoleon. Eggsy figured the small talk would be stilted or worse they’d sit in stiff silence on the ride in but no Napoleon’s chatty enough for the both of them.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Eggsy. I hardly ever get to talk to you during training. You see how much work Ilya takes to keep preoccupied. The man’s an absolute endless font of stamina.” The pride sparkles in his tone. Eggsy doesn’t begrudge him for it. Any coach would be proud to have such a fantastic pupil. Only right.

“Lower class, white, and twenty-two.”

A laugh startles out of Napoleon as he shakes his head.

“Now I see where Illya’s been getting his sarcasm from. I suppose that was nosy of me to ask. Okay instead tell me your favorite alcoholic drink. Not too personal?”

Eggsy smiles. It’s not the fact he minds Napoleon inquiring about him. Just he’d rather hear more about this brash man and what he gets up to.

“Guinness most the time. Bourbon on special occasions.”

By the time they get home they both are in high spirits joking and laughing. Eggsy’s disappointed with himself for not appreciating Napoleon’s wit more before this alcohol run. Granted a bit difficult when he was always attached at the hip to a seemingly unwilling Illya. Harry’s in the kitchen when they amble in their arms full of alcohol.

“Harry, I’m afraid I’m going to steal young Eggsy away from you! He’s an absolute treasure.” Napoleon calls out as he sets down his bags on the island counter. Harry only gives a polite smile in response but says nothing to that. Eggsy frowns because it’s not like him to be aloof to his fellow co-workers. If Napoleon notices anything amiss in his behavior he doesn’t let on in the slightest. Instead, he continues to regale him about the fun time of liquor shopping brushing aside Harry’s curt replies that alcohol isn’t advised for the athletes.

Finally, once Napoleon’s run out of steam he wanders off to go find Illya leaving him and Harry in uncomfortable silence

“You alright, Harry? I promise I’m not planning to go a bender or anything. Or letting him steal me. He asked me to come with and I figured why not.”

“I’m fine, Eggsy. Of course, not you’re too responsible to do that in training. Anyways I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

With that Harry makes his exit and Eggsy is left standing there wondering if he’s just experienced what it’s like to make his coach jealous. The feeling of that isn’t enjoyable.

\--

It’s only a couple days later that finally Eggsy can’t stand the fact Harry is so clearly eluding him when they’re not at practice in the gymnasium or weight room. He manages to suss out Harry’s hiding spot which is at his actual home.

Let it be known that he’s willing to go above and beyond to keep his friendships. No doubt any other student would have brushed off their coach all the sudden being super busy outside of practice, but he’s not buying it for a moment.

“Harry, why have you been hiding? Seems somehow magically I can’t catch you unless it’s practice time when you’re forced to see me.” Is what pops out of his mouth when Harry opens the front door to him. Okay a bit of a blunt start there.

“I haven’t been hiding at all.” The way he avoids Eggsy’s eyes just confirm the lie. This irritates him even more. He steps inside over the threshold and into Harry’s personal space (closing the door with his foot) in this way forcing him to look eye to eye with him.

“You were jealous, weren’t you? Shit Harry going and feeling left out because Napoleon and Gazelle wanted to spend time with me. Why didn’t you just say something?”

Harry gives him a frosty look.

“I was not jealous, Eggsy. I see you six days a week for training, six hours a day. More than enough time in fact.”

“Yeah, but not at all personal like besides that one time in your basement.” Oh, he’s got him now. He may not read people as brilliantly as Roxy but he does know when jealousy is at play.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell no one. Healthy to have feelings, Harry-,”

“Eggsy, you will not say another word.” Harry’s voice crackles with absolute authority. “Do you not understand how inappropriate this is? For God’s sake I’m twenty years your senior.”

Wait what is Harry going on about? He just meant that the other coaches warmed up - _oh_. _OH_. Harry’s talking about a completely different set of feelings. Feelings that Eggsy has been having since they first met. Well shit. This explains so much more.

“Not only is it inappropriate but not allowed! I won’t have you running your mouth.”

Now hold on a second! If there’s one thing Eggsy is great at besides gymnastics it’s keeping secrets.

“I can keep my mouth shut. Besides, you’ve never treated me differently or been weird. No big deal you like blokes. That you like me like that. I do too, just figure there was no way since you’re so proper and all. Figure all we’d do is flirt. Anyways I _never_ out people. I ain’t like that.”

Harry goes still. Hardly seems like he’s breathing. Wow how does he manage intense staring like that? It’s kinda scary how hyper focused he is right now.

“Okay Harry kinda scaring me not saying anything anymore. Just outed myself and dead silence with creepy eyes? Not really encouraging.”

“You felt the same way? You never gave the impression you saw me as anything more than a mentor.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes. Maybe this crush and jealously have messed up Harry’s brain seeing as he himself just said two seconds ago these feelings weren’t appropriate. Maybe the subtleties of flirting go over his head as well.

“Well I wasn’t going to exactly scream it from the rooftops was I now? I may like you Harry, but I know a lost cause when I see one.”

“Not true.”

Eggsy blinks.

“Not true? That it’s a lost cause? But what about all that stuff you said a second ago? All this properness.”

“Just words to cover myself. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you first showed up at five thirty in the morning to work out with me. I couldn’t tell if you took my flirting as such or just saw it as cleverness. You can understand why I wouldn’t dare push to find out how you took my words.”

For a few seconds all Eggsy can do is stare at him completely shocked. Here they are two silly bastards who have been dancing around each other for months flirting afraid to out and out say anything. What complete idiots they must have looked like to anyone with half a brain in their heads.

“So, if I kissed you right now you wouldn’t be upset by that?”

“I would be upset if you didn’t kiss me after we both just confessed our feelings for one another.”

For once Eggsy has nothing to say to that. He’s a bit too preoccupied with Harry gently kissing him to answer back.

**Author's Note:**

> I thank my beta and the program languagetools for helping me with my punctuation. God knows I can never do it right on my own.


End file.
